


A Deal For An Angel

by EveningRose309



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bargaining, But They Both Love Newt, But They LOVE Newt, Desperate Albus Dumbledore, Fluff, Grimmson Is An Ass, Hope You're Happy With This, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mentions of Prostitution, Prostitution, Stubborn Gellert Grindelwald, They are exes, i don't know what this is, is it, they hate each other, tho he ain't exactly in here entirely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningRose309/pseuds/EveningRose309
Summary: Albus is trying to get Gellert to save a prostitute. Gellert, understandably, does not submit to his whims.Until he realizes who said prostitute is.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald/Newt Scamander, Albus Dumbledore/Newt Scamander, Gellert Grindelwald/Newt Scamander
Comments: 8
Kudos: 221





	A Deal For An Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mischiefs_Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischiefs_Hawk/gifts).



> Giving all my mutuals on Tumblr some early Christmas presents. Because even though I don't celebrate, spreading happiness does not need a holiday.

“No.”

“Gellert-”

“Albus.”

“Please.”

Gellert latched the lid of his suitcase closed, leveling his former lover with the blandest expression he could manage. 

“No,” then he turned and walked out the door.

Eight. It was eight in the morning. He had a meeting and seeing his old flame minutes after his shower head had decided to douse him in ice-water was doing absolutely nill for his nerves. Side-winding his way through the apartment, Gellert made a pointed effort not to look back at the sorry little mutt that was hounding his heels.

“Gellert!” Albus yowled after him. “Gell, can’t we talk about this like normal adults?”

“No,” he answered plainly, breaking a left so hard he was sure the other man was slipping behind him. He absently checked his pocket watch. Five minutes to nine. If he was lucky, he’d reach the office before Vinda could tear Krall’s head off.

Luckily for him, the elevator doors opened just as his finger pressed the button. Unluckily for him, Albus had the figure of codfish and slipped right in, breath so laboured he could hardly hold himself up.

“Gellert,” he wheezed.

Gellert sighed. “What?”, practically the first time he’d asked since he’d thrown Albus out of his room, then out of the kitchen, then the living room in a- now vain -attempt to ignore the redhead and get him out of sight. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Albus heaved. “I’- told you what I want.”

Gellert rolled his eyes. “What you want is substantially impossible-”

“You’re the most powerful man in New York!”

“I know!” Albus flinched. Gellert reigned his voice. 

“I know,” he tried, more calmly this time. “And being the most powerful man in New York means I can’t just do things at the drop of a hat. Or hand favors to my ex who I haven’t seen in twenty years to have someone killed.”

Before the other could retort, the iron doors slid apart and Gellert marched on out of them on a bridge march for his car. 

Of course, Albus caught up, and Gellert silently cursed himself for choosing an apartment with such an obnoxiously large lobby.

“Please Gellert,” he tried not to listen. “He’s just a boy. A bright, brilliant boy with the brightest eyes and smile you’ll ever see. Please, you have to help him, he doesn’t deserve his fate-.”

“Prostitutes die every day, Albus-” he held a tip for the doorman. “Morning Chapman, thank you -that’s just a fact of society. And I don’t have the time to take vengeance on every single house that fails to keep their boys alive-”

“They’re hurting him!”

“So what-”

“So what!? Where is your sympathy? You run a crime ring. Don’t you care for the boys that provide your entertainment every night?”

Gellert shook his head. Now he was pulling at straws.

Just as they’d neared his car though, he felt an iron grip on his arm, and suddenly he was facing a very mean, very desperate looking redhead. 

“Don’t you care,” the redhead growled. “About a little boy abandoned by his family because his headmaster threw him out and called him worthless?”

But of course, Gellert could be much, much meaner. 

“Don’t pretend,” he hissed, wrenching off Albus’ hand. “That this is about the boy. This is about you and your stupid ego complex. Your selfishness. You don’t care that the boy’s a prostitute, you just care that he’s not _yours_. That it’s not _your_ bed he’s warming, and because of your blasted sense of morals, you don’t have the balls to call him up and have him your way.”

Turning tail, he left Albus to wince on the sidewalk. He didn’t have time for this. There was money to be made, guns to be tested, and debtors to hunt. He didn’t have time to play Albus’ personal hitman.

Locking himself into his car, he made sure all his things were in place and wondered how much gas he could push to make it to Nurmengard in five minutes. Starting the car, he was just about to put his foot down when an arm shot through his side window and grabbed his before he could make a turn.

“Albus-” he was about to maul him, before his the redhead said four words that nearly stopped him dead.

“His name is Newt.”

A pause. And then. 

Epiphany. 

“Newt,” Gellert repeated. 

“Yes.” 

_No_. “Red hair.”

“..Yes?” 

_No_. “Blue-green eyes?” 

“Yes.”

Gellert heaved through his nose.

“Likes to feed the ducks whenever he passes by Central Park-”

_Nonononono-_

“Yes!”

_No!_

_Damn him_. “Room 23. Grimmson’s Menagerie.”

“Yes!” his ears were ringing now. “I knew you’d come through. I knew. He said to come for you, I- I didn’t know if he was sure, if he really knew you, then he said he did and-”

“Of course he did.”

Of course he did. Because Gellert told him to. Told Newt that if he ever needed him, he would be there. No matter what. No matter how busy he got-

Gellert cursed himself. _Gott verdammt, Grindelwald, you gave your heart to a prostitute_. And now said prostitute was asking for his help- through his ex-

Without thinking of it, he dug into his left pant pocket and pulled out a hundred grand from his wallet.

“Here,” he said, handing the papers to Albus. “Book him for the whole day and tomorrow. I’ll deal with Grimmson tonight and do away Newt’s ties with the house.”

Albus took the money with a pleased smile on his face.

“You’re a good man, Gellert,” he said stepping away from the car.

“Too good,” Gellert muttered to himself, speeding off before his ex could get in any more smug remarks.

Newt. Newt Scamander. His sly little Fuchs. His red haired angel. The only prostitute Gellert had ever met who could read and _read_ what he was reading. Whose distrust in humanity left him snide and scathing when he wanted, and whose love for animals made him ever loving and attentive. The only boy Gellert had ever had in his bed that cared more for the bleeding bandage on his arm than the needs of his cock. Whose lips tasted of honey and poison and wild berries and gunpowder. Whose eyes were brighter than the money in Gellert’s safe or the emeralds draped along Vinda’s neck.

Newt Scamander, the boy who had become more than just a bed warmer, but a heart warmer as well. Gellert would kill for that boy, damn his riches and reputation, he would _kill_ for Newt. He’d contemplated it, shooting Grimmson in the head- for all that he’d done, for all the marks he left on _His_ boy -burning the Menagerie, just to steal Newt away into the night, then, and forever.

But now, now it would become more than just a dream. Now it was finally about to happen. He was going to kill, kill for Newt-

-and Albus. He’d have to contend with Albus. Albus would be the one caring for Newt, holding him whilst Gellert was out slaughtering and committing arson, dodging Graves and Goldstein and Piquery. He would be the one kissing Newt tonight as Gellert would be cleaning up a mid-grade massacre.

He scowled at the thought. Then again, it would be safer for Newt to stay with Al, for Al bus to teach him things, take care of him. He could shower his boy with gifts later, hell, he could shower the both in gifts. Gold. Silver. Rubies and Sapphires. It’d been a while since he’d had people to spoil. Vinda never let him and lord knew the others didn’t need that kind of ego boosting. Two lovers for the price of one.

Then, Gellert smirked, when it came time for him to have his turn with Newt, he’d tie Albus to a chair and make him watch. 


End file.
